{‘Was it a woman who bit off his ear?’: the unruly life and serene photography of Tom Sandberg|‘Did a woman bite off his ear?’: exploring the contradictory life and placid art of Tom Sandberg|The Duality of Tom Sandberg: A Turbulent Life and Contemplative Photography.
Norway has rarely looked as moist as in the pictures of the deceased Tom Sandberg. We see photographs of mist and water pools, of asphalt shiny with fine rain. A wave of water seems to have a hole in it, a figure appears behind a rain-spattered window, a eavestrough shines after a downpour.
Shot in either stark contrast of light and dark or gentle orchestrations of greys, these are images with the power to make the mundane seem ethereal. But they are also elevating, in a perplexing kind of way, like being instructed to get ready for sunshine even when the clouds are black.
Sandberg, as a current show at an art institution next to the Oslo fjord makes clear, was not only Norway’s preeminent photographer, pivotal in making the art form a serious art form in the Nordic region during the 1980s and 1990s. He was also a paradoxical character: boisterous, volatile, with a inclination for fanning his own reputation with his tongue securely in his cheek – and yet possessing the ability to produce compositions that are thoughtful, peaceful and uplifting.
The Photographer's Journey: Four Decades of Work
Covering four decades, from student work captured in the mid-1970s through to pictures made shortly before his death in 2014, Tom Sandberg: Vibrant World is the initial major Sandberg show since his passing at the age of 60. The location is appropriate: Sandberg was once the staff photographer at the institution, capturing art events in its galleries and making tightly framed, hugely blown-up, black and white portraits of visiting dignitaries, including the composer John Cage and the artist Christo. They are detailed in their examination of lined, rough skin.
He was brought into the world in 1953 in the town of Narvik on the coast of northern Norway. The family afterwards moved to Oslo, where Tom’s father worked as a press photographer. “His father brought him to the darkroom for the first time and exposed Tom’s hand on the photo paper. He said he was immediately enchanted by that transformative magic and never looked back,” remembers an art historian and long-time friend.
After his father left the family, Sandberg helped his mother bring up his sister in a rough suburb of the city. In the mid 1970s, he studied photography at a university in England, where he was instructed by the American photographer Minor White.
Sandberg regarded the darkroom process, in which he tinkered with materials and manipulation, to be a pivotal part of image-making. And, as his art progressed, his prints became bigger, almost film-like. A atmospheric interior of a lounge at an airport could be a scene from a European art-house feature.
A Complex Personality: Liveliness and Its Shadow
He returned to Oslo in the late 1970s, and began collaborating with printers and designers. Though he developed an interest in Zen-like compositions, his social life was not at all quiet.
“Tom had a enormous social energy. When he went in a taxi, he’d chat up the taxi driver. He was friends with Norway’s crown princess,” says a close associate. “He had a large need and capacity for having people around him. I think that unrest is the flip side of that liveliness. And that, in a sense, his work calmed that unrest.”
The associate recalls how Sandberg had a particular affinity with young photographers who sought to learn his “wizard darkroom skills” and careful editing process, an traditional meticulous, instinctive and unhurried way of working.
A former assistant and co-curator of the exhibition recalls his unpredictable moments as well as his productivity. “He was a wild soul,” he says. “He was one of those guys with a wry smile. He didn’t take himself seriously but he took his work very seriously. It was how he dealt with existential issues.” Sandberg struggled with alcohol and substance abuse. “He would occasionally go on sprees.”
Sandberg allegedly say that “if it weren’t for photography he’d probably go to the hounds.” Rumours circulated around him. “If you look at his ear in portraits, part of it is not there. And how did that happen? I think he loved myth-making. Like, perhaps a lover took a chunk? That kind of stuff,” says the former assistant. “He would tell interviewers that he dreamed in black and white.”
Although Sandberg’s obsessive methodology, evocative sensibility and pared-back subject matter implies a modernist lone wolf – his photographs often feature solitary figures with their back turned to the camera – he was not a hermit. “He was seen by everyone he drew into his orbit,” notes the assistant. “And he had a passion and instinct that continued like a truck without brakes.”
Through a Daughter's Eyes: The Man and the Artist
“I don’t think he was one thing. He was a complex person,” his daughter, who has been in charge her father’s estate for more than a decade, explains. “He was a very funny person and charismatic. But not always simple to be with.”
How was he as a father? “He was always very guardian-like of me when I was a child. We had many different chapters as well. And I chose to live with him when he wasn’t having the best time of his life,” she says. She sees the photographs he took of her as a form of self-portraiture. “I think he saw a lot of himself in me.”
She recalls how her father would take his camera bag with him wherever he went. “To go from our house to the tram it could take between 10 minutes to two hours. He was taking pictures of me, the street, the sky, the ground. He just saw instants he wanted to seize.” That connection with his subjects and surroundings extended to his friendships, as recalled by a close colleague: “Being in his company felt like the light was beaming on you.”
There were some stretches of focus and abstinence. In his lifetime, he saw notable success, including a solo show at a major New York museum in 2007, and his legacy continues to expand. The current exhibition includes Sandberg works on loan from renowned national and private collections.
The exhibition includes just one photograph of the man himself: a self-portrait taken in 2001, in which Sandberg is seen sitting in an armchair in an bare room. He looks like a security guard. The man you might not notice.
{Tom Sandberg: Vibrant World is on view at a major kunstsenter in Oslo until March 2026.|The exhibition Tom Sandberg: Vibrant World continues its run through early 2026.|Visitors